


Cop Games 2: Cops and Kisses

by Grey (grey853)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, Holiday: xmas, M/M, Series: Cop Games, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:32:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/Grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Blair spend their first Christmas as a couple.<br/>This story is a sequel to Cop Games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cop Games 2: Cops and Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> The song Blair sings is called "Another Year Has Gone By" by Bryan Adams.

## Cop Games 2: Cops and Kisses

by Grey

Author's webpage: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net/>

* * *

Author's disclaimer: The Guys have been borrowed for the Holidays.

* * *

"Oh, man, I don't think I can do this." 

"Then don't." Jim sat on the couch, his hand over the back, watching his best friend pace nervously one more time in front of the window. 

"You're not supposed to say that. You're supposed to say, sure you can, Sandburg. Don't be such a fucking wimp." 

Hearing the words from Blair's mouth as he imitated his voice slapped his conscience. "I'd never say that, Chief." 

"But you'd think it." 

"Maybe last year. Not now. I've matured since then." 

Blair snorted and wrapped his arms around his waist, still walking back and forth, still not looking up. "Matured, huh? Yeah, well, I guess that makes one of us then." 

"I love you, Blair. You're not a wimp for not wanting to tell those assholes in IA all your private business." 

"They've got no right to ask, Jim, but you know they're going to. Why can't they just use the statements from Simon and the others? I mean, I wasn't even awake by the time you got there. They know that and yet they still want to see me. I'm toast, man. They're going to ask about what Tim did and I think I'm going to be sick here." He suddenly stopped moving and steadied himself against the wall with one hand while the other covered his mouth. 

Jim registered the rising panic, the racing vitals as he stepped over to wrap his arms around his partner. Long even strokes down the back recorded the loud thumping of the heart against his hand. "I told you before, you don't have to go." 

Arms snaked around his middle, gripping him hard enough to restrict his breathing just a little. He didn't complain as he listened to the slowing rhythms, the soft muffled sounds of his lover's voice. "I know, man, but if I don't, they could say I was part of it or something. I have to clear that up." 

"Then just listen to Raddison. He's an asshole, but he's a damn good lawyer who knows every ploy. He's not going to let them force you to say anything you don't want to. You're a civilian anyway. They don't have any power over you and if they try to pull your consultant status, we'll have Raddison handle that, too." 

"For a guy you hate, you're doing a lot of trusting here." 

"Yeah, well, we have a common interest, to see this Richards case finished and buried." 

The shiver with the word buried didn't escape his notice, but he didn't ask. The head resting against his chest rubbed against him several times before pulling away, the salty scent of his lover's tears lingering on the sweater. He ran a hand gently through the curls before he whispered, "You okay now?" 

"Yeah, I think so. I need to go pull this hair back and I'll be ready to go." As he started to walk down the hallway, he stopped a moment and turned around. "Will we have time to come back before the benefit tonight, or should I take a change of clothes?" He motioned to the suit he wore and shook his head. "No way do I want to go to a party dressed like a waiter." 

"We'll make time, Chief. Besides, you're exhausted. I thought after you gave your statement you could come back and take a nap before tonight." 

"A nap? Jesus, Jim, I'm not a kid. I don't need a fucking nap just because I can't sleep worth shit, okay?" The flash of anger surprised him, almost as much as the bathroom door slamming. 

Taking a deep swallow for patience, Jim shook his head and turned to look out the window, the already snow-covered streets and trees getting a new white dusting. The chill draped his body with a stillness, an inner calm he worked to hold despite the rattling of his nerves in sympathy for his partner's suffering. After a few moments, Blair returned by his side, his tentative hand touching Jim's back. "I'm sorry, man. Didn't mean to go off like that. I don't know why I said that." 

"You're angry. The man who pissed you off is dead and I'm not. It's not so hard to figure." 

"Yeah, maybe, but I'm still sorry." 

Turning, Jim leaned back against the wall, pulling Blair into a hug. "It's okay to be angry, Chief, just not at me or anyone else who happens to be concerned about you. I know you hate when people fuss and hover, but you'd better prepare yourself because half the people in the precinct have already called in to check on you, and the other half is waiting until you show up at this benefit tonight. There's going to be a crowd. Think you can handle that?" 

"Yeah, I think so, as long as you're there to watch my back." 

"Always." Lifting Blair's chin, Jim bent down and kissed him lightly, just a gentle rub against his lips before standing straight. "Now, if we're going to the station, we need to leave." 

"Okay." Blair picked up his backpack and tightened a strap as he talked. "Jim?" 

"Yeah?" 

"You still taking tomorrow and Christmas off?" 

"Yeah, why?" Jim watched as his friend worried the buckle, the growing frustration of his hands against the stubborn metal and cloth leading to several jerks and a string of curses. "Chief?" 

"Shit. It's broken." 

Stepping closer, he took the bag out of his lover's hands. "Here, let me have it for a minute." 

"Sure, why not? Let Jim fix it." The puffing anxiety pushed the words out in strikes, tiny verbal blows aimed and delivered, but patiently ignored. 

Blair stood nearby chewing on a nail while he straightened and slid the strap to the short length. "So, why did you want to know about my being off? I told you I would be." 

"I know. I just wanted to check." He shifted foot to foot, staring at the backpack rather than Jim while he spoke, his one arm tightly wrapped around his middle, the other still at his mouth. "I was thinking that maybe we should like get a tree or something, maybe a wreath or some lights." 

"Why not all three?" He handed the readjusted bag back to Blair and grinned. "Here. All done." 

"Thanks, man." Blair smiled a full smile for the first time in days, the glow like true meaning across darkness. "You mean that, man? It won't bother you or anything to do like all the traditional decorations and things you usually say you hate?" 

"I mean it. Tradition's not always a bad thing." 

"It would be kind of expensive." 

"It's Christmas, Chief. You want a tree, we'll get a tree. You want reindeer, we'll talk first. Now, you ready to go?" Jim stepped over and got both their leather coats and Blair's red scarf to bring back to his partner. 

"Sure, Jim. I'm ready. I guess." He took the offered garments, his face thoughtful. "It'll be like our first Christmas together, huh?" 

Not bothering to mention they'd wasted two years, he nodded instead. "Yeah, it will be." 

Wrapping the scarf around his neck and pulling on his gloves, Blair nodded, his face suddenly more flushed and animated. "Oh, man, Jim, this is going to be like way cool." 

"Yeah, Chief. Way cool." 

* * *

"Are you sure you can have it finished by tomorrow afternoon?" 

"For you, Detective, I can have it done by tonight." Eric Perkins finished writing down the order before he looked up, his fresh face full of seasonal cheer. 

Smiling back, containing his own nervousness, Jim shook his head. "No, tomorrow's fine." 

"Then by 3 PM at the latest. Oh, Blair's going to love this, Detective. Trust me." Perkins put the small box in the velvet bag with the order form and placed them on a tray while he spoke. "He's a lucky man, your partner." 

"I'm the lucky one." Pushing away the creeping blush, he finished writing the check and then handed it to the clerk. "Look, if he should come in here, not a word, right?" 

"Are you kidding? It's Christmas. Half the fun is the surprise." A naughty smile crossed the full lips. "Of course, with this kind of surprise, it's a good thing you're a cop." 

"Why's that?" 

"Well, he might faint and then you'll be forced to do that emergency mouth-to-mouth thing you tough guys are trained to do. Now, THAT would be worth a picture." 

Shit. The blush and the choking laugh caught him off guard as he struggled not to drown in his own spit. 

"Sorry, Detective. I had spiked eggnog for lunch and my mouth is just way too full of mirth for its own good." 

While Jim worked to regain his composure, the clerk finished the details for the check and then handed him the receipt. "Merry Christmas. If I see Blair, I never saw you, okay?" 

"Stay away from the eggnog and it's a deal." 

"You've got it." 

Walking out of the store, Jim headed down the street to enter the station. Images of giving mouth to mouth to his partner made his lips ache. Standing in the crowded elevator, he closed his eyes to block out the crushing assault of all the other people around him, the perfumes and body sounds, the scraping of skin against cloth. Instead he focused on the sweet scent so much like salted almond and honey that he knew as Blair. With the ding to his floor, he entered the bullpen more relaxed and yet still anxious. 

"Jim, what are you doing here? I thought you'd be downstairs with Blair while he finished his statement." Simon stood by his desk while Jim settled behind a stack of files. 

"He didn't want me there, sir. Said it made him even more nervous to have me close enough to listen in." 

"Okay, I can see that, I guess." The larger man glanced at his watch and then back at Jim. "He should be finished pretty soon anyway. I mean, it started at ten and it's after two. Surely they'll have asked everything they needed to by now." 

"I don't even know why they made him go through this. He was unconscious when I shot Richards." 

"We both know that this isn't about the shooting." 

"Yeah, well, that's what the paper said when they asked for his appearance. Anything else and they're shooting in a barrel." 

"Maybe. Let's hope they don't hit anything important." 

Just as he started to leave, Raddison came up beside him. Alarmed, Jim extended his senses. "Where the hell's my partner?" 

Speaking to both men, the lawyer motioned his head toward Simon's office. "I think we should talk in private." 

"Shit." 

"Detective, the IA thing is over and you're cleared. So is Sandburg. As far as IA is concerned the whole Richards disaster is over." 

"So why do you want to talk to us alone and where's Blair?" Jim stood, adjusting his gun, his gut tight against his back. 

Without responding, Raddison walked beside Simon and remained quiet until all three men took up positions behind the closed door. Reaching for a mug, the captain's voice took on command tone. "Now, tell us what's going on." 

"Could I have some of that, Captain Banks? It's smells delicious." 

The snort from Jim as he walked to the window, his whole body tense and impatient, brought a cautionary look from Simon. "No problem, Mr. Raddison. Cream and sugar?" 

"No, black is fine. Look, I'm not really sure how to say this." 

"You're a lawyer, Raddison. Words are your business. Now spit it out. If the meeting's over, where's Blair?" The muscles in his jaw flexed several times as he bit back the profanities barely kept in check. 

Raddison took the coffee before he sat down at the table, his eyes trained on Jim. "The meeting went okay once I got him settled. He was really wired. I swear, at first I thought he must be on drugs or something." 

"Sandburg doesn't use drugs." 

"I know that, Ellison. I'm just saying that's how upset he was. Then when he got in front of the committee, he calmed down and answered everything I let him answer." 

"Which was?" 

"Everything that dealt with the Richards shooting and anything Sandburg might know about the missing men. Of course, he denied knowing anything about that, so that part was over quickly. The problem was they were fishing, Ellison." 

"Fishing?" 

"Yeah, you know, fishing for the bigger fish, which I got the feeling might be you. Apparently there are still a few folks in IA who think that despite your glowing arrest record, you might have a few nasty secrets. Fishing season was in full swing." 

Leaning back against the wall, his arms crossed, Jim nodded. "So, what did Blair do?" 

"He refused to answer about your relationship, which he had every right to do. I have a feeling that if you come out any time soon, Detective, we might very well see the Cascade version of a witch hunt." 

"And you think that because?" 

"I got the definite impression that the idea of the best detective in the city, possibly the state, being gay gave rise to some concern for some of our IA members." 

"Shit. So, the rumors about Blair and me are being taken seriously then?" 

"Oh, yeah, but if they take any action, you've got the law on your side. I'd be happy to represent you if it ever comes to that, but I doubt it will. They didn't act like they had the balls to really pursue it. No, I'm more concerned about the welfare of your partner." 

"And why is that?" 

"He controlled himself admirably, I'll give him that much, but when we left the meeting, he barely made it to the restroom before he got sick." 

"Is he okay?" 

"You tell me. Look, I'm not a doctor, but it doesn't take a shrink to figure out that he's having some serious problems dealing with whatever happened with Richards." 

"That's not your business." 

"Maybe not. I just thought I'd tell you what happened and mention that I think you should try to convince him to see somebody, get some counseling. I don't feel right watching a man fall apart like that and not saying something to someone who might be able to help him. From what I've seen of your partner, he's a great actor, but that's all it is, an act." 

Jim wanted to scream denial or punch the man's face in, his fear of the truth being the greatest voice for violence to end the words. Instead, he just stood there, the stony silence a signal to his captain to step in. "I'm sure we both appreciate your concern, Mr. Raddison. We'll talk to Sandburg and see what we can do." As the lawyer rose, he gave him a quick handshake and opened the door. "And thanks for helping at the meeting. I'm sure Detective Ellison appreciates that, too, don't you, Jim?" 

"Yes, sir." Arms still tightly crossed, the words fighting to get past clenched teeth, he asked, "Did Blair say where he was going when you last saw him?" 

"He mentioned the university. Something about uploading the grades on a friend's computer." 

"Thanks, Raddison. I do mean that." 

"I know you do, Detective. Just take care of your partner." 

"I'll do that." 

As the door closed, Simon turned, his words tight. "Do you think he's right, Jim? Is Blair in that much trouble?" 

"I don't know. Maybe. He promised he'd tell me if it got to be too tough, but I guess we all have different scales of trouble." 

"Yeah, well, why don't you go find him. If he can't come to the show, later, people will understand. I mean, everybody knows what happened." 

His head come up, his blue eyes meeting the dark, serious ones of his captain. "Do they?" 

"Well, they know he was kidnapped." 

"But they don't know it all, Simon. I don't even know it all. I'm convinced of that. But, that's not the point. He's hurting and I can't do a fucking thing to make it better." 

"Bullshit." 

"What?" 

"You heard me. Just being there makes it better, Jim. Let him talk if he needs to or just let him deal with it however he chooses at his own pace. This is heavy stuff we're talking about." 

He put his hand on the doorknob, his whole body energized, the tension stressing even his smallest muscles. "Thanks, Simon. I'll call you later when I find him." 

"Forget the call. Just find him." 

* * *

"God, you're such an asshole." 

"I'm an asshole? Listen, you little cocksucking punk, you're the one who needed a favor, not me. I've been waiting for that mouth of yours for too long already." 

"There is like no way that's ever going to happen, so you might as well leave. I'll go to the dean if I have to." 

"And you think he'll believe you over me? No fucking way. Not after what happened with your boyfriend Tim." 

"Fuck you, man." 

"Well, that may come later, my dear friend, but for right now, I'll settle for those lips doing what they were made for. I'll be in my office when you decide just how important your position at the school really is." 

Just as Davis started to leave, Jim stepped inside the door. "I don't think so, Professor." 

"Jim, what are you doing here?" 

"Acting as a witness to sexual harassment looks like." 

The older man brushed back his grey hair, his anger covering his embarrassment. "So, you're his cop buddy, Ellison, I take it? The man he LIVES with?" 

"Yeah, and you're the asshole who just told my partner he had to give you a blow job if he wanted to get his late grades posted, right?" The evil calmness leveled the words, his own tongue so controlled it amazed him. 

"Jesus, Jim, how long have you been standing there?" Blair still leaned in the corner of his office, his arms crossed tightly around his chest, his face ashen. 

"Long enough to get the details about why Davis has had it in for you lately." Turning his full pressure cop stare back to the professor, his voice lowered, the threat very clear. "Long enough to know that this is never going to happen again, not to you or any other grad student this jerk off happens to fancy." 

"Who the hell do you think you are, Detective?" 

"The last man on your dance card, doctor. Now, you have a choice here. You can turn in your resignation effective immediately or I can go to the dean about what I heard here today." 

"You're Sandburg's lover. He won't believe you." 

"What I am is a Cascade PD Major Crimes detective who has enough juice to make your life a misery and I will if you refuse to resign and leave my partner alone." 

Wetting his lips, his hands shaking, the words came out too uneven. "I'll need to think about it." 

"No thinking. Do it right now. You can do it in your office or here. Doesn't matter. If you're not gone by the end of the semester, if you come near Blair again, you'll be in every paper in the state. There won't be a university that'll come near you. Add to that, if I ever hear even an inkling that you're still doing this somewhere else, I'll be after your ass so fast, you won't be able to find it to sit down. Do I make myself clear, Dr. Davis?" 

"Shit. You can't do this, not over some little faggot like Sandburg." Before he could stop himself, without any memory of the lunge forward, he forced the body into the wall, his hands around the wrinkled throat. 

"Jim, don't, man. Stop." Only his guide's strong voice halted him from pressing harder, from finishing the motion that would snap the neck so cleanly. God, it would be so fucking easy. "Come on, Jim. Listen to me. Let him go." 

His hands swept out and away in a release move, his mind still reddened and enflamed. Reaching down deep, he found his hiding voice, the tremor pushing the words out too roughly, the scraping syllables painful. "Get the fuck out of here, Davis." 

"I'd do what he says. A pissed off Ellison is nobody to mess with." 

"No, shit." Not wasting another moment, Davis disappeared. 

Blair's hand touched his sleeve as he slumped to the chair, his head down, his rage still blazing through his veins. His whole body shook with the battle for control. God, he hated assholes like Davis, men who both wanted his partner yet despised him, men with power who abused it, too many men to kill. Damn. 

"Jim? Are you okay, man?" 

Air worked hard to reach his brain, his lungs lousy traitors. "I should ask you that." 

"I'm fine, man. Just a little shell shocked, maybe. Jesus, Jim, I thought you were going to kill him." 

"I almost did." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah." 

The silence between them stretched out, tight and edgy. Slowly, Blair's fingers raised to his cheek, tracing along his jaw, his touch delicate and yet commanding. His right thumb gently rubbed along his lower lip, the tease so much like warm honey. "You okay now?" 

"I think so. I just sort of lost it there for a minute." 

"That's okay." A small smile curled his full lips as he leaned in closer, his breath warm and inviting. Very softly he whispered, "Thanks, man." The kiss wrapped his mind in a rush of heat, a swirling red expanding to a blasting yellow. His hand captured the back of dark curls and drew his lover closer, his tongue pushed between parted lips, wrestling with an equally hungry partner. He suckled the moans as Blair wrapped himself closer, his whole body pure heat and steamy pulses. 

Pulling his head back to breathe, Jim growled deep in his throat. "I've missed you, Chief." 

"Yeah? Me, too, man. This whole day's sucked big time until now." 

He settled back into the upright recliner, Blair still in his arms. "I know. Raddison told me. Why didn't you tell me about Davis?" 

Using both hands to push away, Blair stood and walked to his desk. He sat down and shook his head, his whole body tense again. "I know I should have, but I kept hoping he'd stop. Then it started again a few weeks ago when he found out I was dating Tim. He saw us together at the Soldier and I guess he figured, what's one more cock for Sandburg to suck." 

The harsh tone with his own name brought Jim to attention. "Did he say that?" 

"No, but it's what he thought. Hell, I should be used to it. He's not the first professor to pull that old suck me if you want to keep your grant routine. Shit." He rubbed his face with both hands, the flush of skin, the too bright eyes harder to hide. 

"You could've turned him in." 

"Yeah, right. The only closed society tighter than cops, Jim, is the academic old school. They protect their own. I just wanted him to stop that's all." He cleared his throat, his words choked. "I guess, this whole thing with Tim has made it harder to deal with though. I usually don't feel like crying." 

"Is that how you feel now, like crying?" 

"Yeah, well, I'm trying really hard not to, man. It's so not cool." Turning away, Blair shook his head. "I mean, I just wanted to post the fucking grades and he shows up. Every time I try to do something simple, it just goes to shit. Don't mind me, man, I'm just tired." 

"I know you are. We both are." He stood and came to sit on the edge of the desk, his butt just on the edge. "So, did you finish posting?" 

"Yeah, just barely. Davis was going to turn in another delinquent slip though. Said I was late again, as usual. Son of a bitch." 

"Yeah, he was." Stroking the tight arm, he watched the kaleidoscope of emotions coloring his friend's features, the worry, the sadness, the fear. "Let's go home, Chief. You need to get some rest. Tomorrow's Christmas eve and I've got plans." 

"We've got the benefit show tonight." 

"We don't have to go." 

"Yeah, we do, Jim. I do. Everybody knows what happened. If I don't show up, they'll think he whipped my ass worse than he did, that I'm a loser who can't handle things." 

"They won't think that." 

"Then I'll think it." Blair took his hand and held it to his cheek, while he continued speaking. "I have to do this, Jim. I want to go home, change, get my guitar, and go sing. I told them I would, and I need to." 

"Okay, Chief." As he stood, Blair stood with him, his hand holding on tightly. "What are you planning to sing this year?" 

"I don't know. I haven't decided. Everyone liked "O Holy Night" last year, but I don't want to repeat myself." 

After he put on his jacket, Jim wrapped his muffler around his neck and drew him in closer, a quick kiss to the forehead and back. "Anything you sing will be a hit. You've got an angel's voice." 

"Blair Sandburg, the faggot Jew who sucks cock, has an angel's voice. Yeah, right." 

Stung, Jim stared in shock as his friend turned to leave. "Don't you dare go out that door, Blair." His officer's voice pushed the words hard into the brittle air. 

"What?" 

"I need to know what's going on in that head of yours. Why are you so down on yourself about all this?" 

Trying to move away, his hand on the door, Jim stepped faster. "Jim, man, I don't have time for this." 

"Yes, you do. Now, tell me why it is you keep saying stupid shit about yourself." 

"I'm too tired. I just want to go home for a few hours before tonight. Can't we just do that? Does everything have to be an Ellison gets to the bottom of the problem right now moment for godsakes? Just leave it the hell alone. I'm not ready to talk about this yet." 

Moving in closer, his body next to Blair's, one arm on each side of the wall, he blocked him in. "Look, I'll accept you don't want to talk just this minute, but you're going to stop with the Sandburg's a worthless cocksucking faggot shit, okay? That I won't stand for." 

Blair avoided his eyes, struggled to duck under the arms, failed and grunted in frustration. "Won't stand for? Who the hell do you think you are anyway, man?" 

"I'm the man who loves you, Blair. It hurts to hear you talk about yourself like that. I can't stand it." His eyes stung at the crack of his own voice, at the deep pain in the gaze meeting his. 

Shaking his head and then closing his eyes, Blair finally spoke, his voice thick and quiet. "I'm sorry, Jim. I never wanted to hurt you." 

"I know, but, when you hurt, I hurt. It's just part of the deal, Chief." 

"Well, that sucks." 

"Hurting sucks. Loving you doesn't." 

"That's nice to say, man, but it's still not fair." 

"We both know how useful fair is in the world." Stepping back, he opened the door and motioned Blair to the hallway. "Now, come on. Let's go home and rest before you show off that gorgeous voice of yours." 

"Okay." Stepping out into the hallway to stand beside him, he talked while he locked the door. "Hey, Jim, what's your favorite Christmas song?" 

"Anything that Blair sings." 

"Damn, you're turning into mush right before my very eyes." 

"And that's a bad thing?" 

The voice softened as Blair smiled. "Not at all, man. I can handle mush." 

"Now there's an image I like, Chief." 

The light chuckle warmed him far better than any holiday fire. 

* * *

"Man, that outfit looks tight." Henri Brown gave Blair a quick slap on the back as they stood by the stage. 

Jim stared at his companion, his dark hair wild curls around his face, dressed all in black except for the quilted blue and silver vest, and he had to agree. The deep azure silk matched his lover's eyes, soft and magical in the low light. "Yeah, Chief. You look damn tight." 

Blair wobbled his head with a silly face to show how much he took their words seriously. "Listen, you guys, knock it off. The only thing tight about me is my stomach. This singing gig makes me like really nervous." 

"Don't worry, man. You'll do great, just like last year." Suddenly more serious, Brown put his hand on Blair's shoulder. "Look, I need to say thanks, man. I never got a chance to say it before, but I really owe you for saving my life the other day. That guy was looking to kill me." 

Suddenly uneasy, his gestures stiff, Blair shrugged. "It's okay, man. You would've done the same for me. Let's forget about it." 

"No way, man. Almost dying and having someone save your ass is not something you forget about anytime soon." Brown stepped in close, his voice softer. "Look, Blair, they've got me going to the department shrink, just standard procedure after this kind of thing, you know, and though I kind of resisted at first, it's not that bad. I was thinking maybe you ought to maybe check the guy out. He's got a lot of good ideas about how to deal with some of the stress." 

"I'm fine, man. Don't worry about me." His cheeks reddened as he adjusted the strings and nodded, keeping his eyes away from meeting Brown's. "I'm glad you're doing okay though." 

"Well, you're a tougher guy than me then, Sandburg, because I have to tell you, I haven't been sleeping worth shit since it happened. It helps to have someone to talk to, you know?" 

"I know, man, but I have, Jim." 

Brown glanced up at the older detective and nodded. "Yeah, well, that's cool then, I guess. I just wanted to say thanks." He slapped another pat on Blair's shoulder and headed off to talk to Taggert. 

"You're sure dance pretty, Sandburg." 

"What?" 

"All that fancy foot work almost made me dizzy." 

"You're not making any sense, Jim." 

"You're not fine and I think Brown's right. You need to see somebody about this." 

"Don't start with me, man. I'm not in the mood. I've got to sing in front of about 500 people in a minute and I don't need you ragging my ass about something that is so not going to happen." 

"Ragging your ass?" Stepping in closer, keeping his voice down to avoid unwanted attention. "Look, Blair, we're going to talk about this, maybe not now, but sometime really soon." 

"Man, I don't need this right now." 

"And I don't need to be worried every minute that you're going to jump out a window and try to fly, Chief." 

Blair stopped all movement and put down his guitar, turning and meeting his eyes for the first time. "What are you trying to say, Jim? You think I'm going to hurt myself over this shit?" 

"I don't know what to think. You're not acting like yourself and it scares me. I'm not sure what to do or say to make it better." 

"You don't get it, man." 

"What don't I get?" 

"That pushing me doesn't help, doesn't make it better. If you think I'm going to hurt myself anymore than I already have, you don't know me very well at all. I've pretty much met my royal screw up quotient for the year already. I jumped out of the window when I was stupid enough to get involved with Tim just because I was lonely." 

The words he started to say in protest clogged his throat when he heard the last phrase. After several hard swallows, he forced stunned words forward. "You were lonely?" 

"Yeah, man, and it made me stupid, and I have to live with that. Nothing you can say or do changes any of what I did or what happened. I'm sorry, Jim. I can't talk about this right now." Picking up his guitar again, he started up the stairs to take his place behind the curtain. 

"Jesus, Chief, you can't say stuff like that and just walk away. We have to talk about this." 

"I know. Just not now. Please, man, I know you want to help, to fix things like you always do, but I just need some time to deal with this myself, okay?" 

"Okay." Nodding, resolved to be patient despite his urge to grab up his lover and take him home, he added, "Good luck with the song. Decided what to sing yet?" 

"Just listen, man. I'm going to be singing for you tonight." 

"You always sing for me, Chief." 

"Arrogant bastard." Jim smiled as he listened to the deep chuckle behind the words as Blair disappeared behind the curtain. 

After a few more moments of processing his partner's words, he took a deep breath and headed to the front table to sit with Simon. "Hey, Jim. How's the kid doing?" 

"Fine." 

"Fine? Why doesn't the tone in your voice convince me?" 

"Leave it alone, sir." 

"Sure thing, Jim, right after I get elected president." 

Meeting his friend's concerned eyes, he shrugged. "He's handling it his way, Simon. I'm just here for back up." 

"Well, at least he trusts you to be there when he needs you." 

"He knows I'll always be there." 

Simon took another swallow of punch and stuffed a cookie in his mouth, the white powder a contrast to his dark skin. He wiped his lips before he added, "Then that's something at least." 

"Yeah? Then why do I feel like shit?" 

"Because you care and your partner's hurting. I'd be worried if you didn't feel shitty." 

Just as he started to speak, the curtain pulled back and Blair's soft voice sizzled through the speakers. The boost of the microphone prompted him to dial down his hearing. Even on low, his partner's voice touched his deepest tissue, the tenor of it like velvet smoothed along an enflamed nerve, reactive to the touch of that one sound. 

"Merry Christmas, everybody. I'm glad to be here tonight." He paused as a round of applause went up in support, most of the audience well aware of how close he came to not being there at all. His voice spoke, more husky when the clapping died down. "Thanks. I appreciate that." 

Bringing his guitar up, he ran his pick across the strings, the electronic sound more mellow than usual. "I was going to sing "Ave Maria" tonight, but changed my mind. I heard a song awhile ago that spoke to me, spoke to my feelings toward someone I care about, and I wanted to share that with you as well as that person. I didn't have the music, so I'm sort of playing this thing by ear. It's called "Another Year Has Gone By". Backing away from the microphone, he started playing, the guitar chords flowing, even and smooth, the air sizzling and charged around him. 

Jim's focus centered on the vibration of the strings, the wicked push of air that captured his attention to the exclusion of everything else until Blair sang, his voice stretching out the words, the pure taut variations like strokes directed to Jim's heart, his chest aching to hold the man singing directly to him and no one else. 

"So many 25th's of December/ Just as many 4th of July's/ And we're still holding it together/ It only comes down to you and I/" 

"I know you can still remember/ Things we said right from the start/ When we said that this could be special/ I'm keeping those words deep down in my heart/" 

Another long strum of guitar and a lifting of his voice brought on the chorus, locking Jim to his words. "Another year has gone by/ And I'm still the one by your side/ After everything that's gone by/ There's still no one saying goodbye/ Though another year has gone by/" 

"I've never been much for occasions/ You never let a birthday go by/ With announcing how much you love me/ But the truth was always there--/ right there in your eyes/" 

"And we're still holding hands when we're walking/ Acting like we've only just met/ But how could that be--when there's so much history/ Guess that's how true lovers can get/ Another year has gone by/" 

The last chord played, the last word lifted through air braced him into near pain from the pleasure of drinking in the meaning, the commitment behind the words. Blair loved him and he sang the fact both directly to him and in front of an audience, proclaiming their connection to anyone who knew them. Fickle breath left him until Simon's hand squeezed his shoulder, the sensation rocking him against the onslaught of applause thundering through the room as everyone stood while Blair bowed and walked from the stage. "Jim? Are you okay, man?" 

"God, I love him, Simon." 

"Merry Christmas, Jim. I think you just got the gift of a life time." 

* * *

Jim rolled over and touched the cold space beside him before he sat up, extending his hearing to the movements in the kitchen. "Chief?" 

"Down here, man. Stay there. I'm fixing us some coffee and breakfast." 

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he pulled on his robe and headed for the stairs. His partner stood at the counter, his hair pulled back, dressed in jeans and long black sweater with a grey T-shirt underneath. Working at filling up the tray with croissants and jellies, dishes, and cups, he failed to notice Jim's approach and jumped at the unexpected touch. "Damn. Don't do that, man." 

"What?" 

"Sneak up behind me." 

"I didn't mean to scare you. I was just going to steal a kiss before heading for the bathroom." 

Blair took a long calming breath and shook his head. "You're a cop, Jim, Stealing's illegal. Besides, you can't steal what's already yours, man." 

"Yeah?" He traced his finger along the back of his lover's neck, the slight shiver, the quickened breathing and heartbeat, a turn on. "Your kisses all belong to me then?" 

"Every single one, man." His cock twitched at the breathy words, at the heavy musk of Blair's arousal. 

"Then maybe I'll try one to see if it fits." 

He leaned back to prop himself against the counter, his legs spread, his robe open exposing his bare chest. Reaching out, he pulled the smaller man between his thighs, the weight resting against his groin. Blair's erection said good morning as his guide rocked his hips forward before rotating them several times. 

"I think you already tried on a quite a few last night. I'm surprised your lips aren't worn out or something." The whole time he spoke, he worked his body slowly against Jim's. 

"Are your lips worn out?" 

"Not a chance, man." He smiled, his mouth still swollen from the previous night's kissfest. Easing his hand down between them, Blair's palm stroked his throbbing cock through the flannel boxers. "God, you're so hard, Jim. So hot. Let me taste you." 

Heat rushed up his center, the touch stealing his breath, all words lost their meaning. His legs tightened as the Blair dropped to his knees, dragging his boxers down far enough to free him. The warm feathery teases of tongue tip pulled at his spine, each vertebrae jerked closer than before, pressure building. He fought hard not to bite off his lower lip as he held down the deep groans rumbling up from his middle, the gut growl so grinding deep muscles echoed complaints. 

Wet fire swallowed him, took his cock into a velvet blaze that both pained and pleased, grabbed and suctioned his life's blood, his air singed to ashy whispers. His balls swelled to bursting just as his whole torso jerked backward. Suddenly his backbone arched into a stillness blasting his head into a explosive bright light, reds swirling to white on white flames searing his sockets, melting his bones. Legs collapsed beneath him as knees buckled after the last spasm of release. 

He couldn't move, he couldn't talk, and breathing didn't come easy. 

"Damn, Jim, please don't die here, okay? Talk to me, man." Firm pats against his cheek, rich with his own scent pleased him, graced him with a smug smile of satisfaction. "Are you all right?" 

Language suddenly returned to his content and lazy tongue. "More than all right." Reaching his hand to Blair's nervous one, he stilled it and brought it to his lips, his kiss to the palm an offering. "I love you, Chief. That was truly amazing." 

"Man, you scared me when you came so fast. I barely got started and then you zoned big time." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah, and, in case you haven't noticed, you're still lying in the middle of the kitchen floor. You fell hard, man. I couldn't catch you." 

"Doesn't matter. I'd fall off a 10-story building to come like that again." 

"God, Jim, you're turning into such a slut here." 

"It's Christmas, Chief. Lighten up. I just tried on one of your best kisses yet." The hard floor beneath is bare ass nudged for his attention and he laughed as he used Blair for leverage to stand up. Reaching down, he pulled up his boxers and rearranged his robe. His whole body tingled, every nerve relaxed and happy. 

Arms suddenly wrapped his middle as Blair hugged him, his body shaking. The fun of the moment vanished, worry waving all the flags. "What's going on, Chief?" 

"Nothing, man. I'm just glad you're okay. You scared me when you fell. It just surprised me." The arms gripped tighter, the breathing more intense. 

"You're sure that's all?" 

"I'm sure." Pulling away, Blair pushed his hair back and turned toward the sink, flipping on the faucet for hot water. His words played out over the rushing splashes as he washed his hands. "Now why don't you go take a quick shower while I finish up breakfast. Everything's cold now." 

"Not everything." 

He moved in behind Blair to hug him one more time only to have the younger man shift away to avoid him. "Go on, Jim. We've got tons to do today and I need to take a shower myself before we leave." 

Still concerned by the drastic change of mood, he braced himself against the chair watching the man he loved sorting through the silverware and dishes. "Then lets save time. Take one with me." 

Blair looked up and stopped moving, his eyes suddenly too bright. "I'd like that, Jim. But not right now, okay?" 

"Why not?" 

"I just want to fix breakfast. Go on." 

"Chief, I don't get this. You just gave me the greatest present and now you're suddenly acting upset, almost like you're afraid of me or something. What's going on?" 

Shaking his head, Blair walked over to the window and spoke quietly while he kept his back to Jim. "I'm not afraid of you. It's me. I don't want to spoil this." 

"Spoil what? Us?" 

"Us. The holiday. Everything. I've been trying really hard to put this whole thing out of my head, but then it just kicks me in the balls when I least expect it. I don't mean to be such a drag." 

"You're not a drag, Blair, but I can't help you if don't let me. Tell me what to do to make it better." 

"Just go take your shower and try not to get too pissed if I don't sing and dance all through the holidays, okay? I'm doing the best I can, man, but sometimes it's really hard to keep smiling." 

Stepping to stand by his partner, Jim braced his body against the wall with one hand, his other on Blair's shoulder. "I don't expect that and neither does anyone else but you. All I want is for you to be honest with me. If something isn't right, if I do or say something you don't like, you have to tell me." 

"I already do that." 

"No, you don't. Like right now. You're upset and I don't have a clue why." 

"You don't want to know, man. It's crazy." 

"Tell me." 

"Promise not to get too pissed." 

Taking an extra deep breath, Jim nodded. "I promise. Now, what's going on?" 

"I really liked going down on you like that." 

"And I really liked you doing it, too." 

Blair smiled slightly while he stared out the window. "I could tell." 

"So, why is that a problem?" 

No longer smiling, Blair barely formed the words. "The last guy I did that to was Tim." 

Shit. 

"Well, aren't you going to say anything?" 

Jim turned and walked back to the kitchen, his hand to his mouth, his mind racing. The idea of Blair doing to Richards what he'd just done for him turned his stomach. At the same time, he hated the desperate blue sadness watching him, his guide waiting in fear for an answer. He formed the skittish words carefully. "What would you like me to say?" 

"Damn. I knew you'd be pissed off." 

"I'm not pissed off." He watched the arms tighten around his partner's waist, the lips caught between warring teeth. 

"I am a little hurt here. Give me a minute to figure this out." 

"What's there to figure out?" 

"I guess I'm trying to figure out why you're telling me this right now." 

"You wanted to know what was bothering me, so I told you." 

Damn. "Well, yeah, but I guess I never really expected that." 

"What did you expect?" 

"I don't know exactly, but not that." Jim came back into the room, his chest hurting from the strain of sensing the growing anxiety in his friend's body, the shifting foot to foot, the racing heart and breathing. It only took a few more moments to decide what to say. 

"The thing is, it really doesn't matter. You weren't with me at the time, not really with me like you are now. What you did of your own free will, well that was your business." 

"You mean that?" 

"Yeah, I do. Is that what was bothering you, that I'd find out and get pissed?" 

"Yeah, that and you finding out how stupid I can be." 

"Shit, Chief, there you go again." 

"What?" 

"Putting yourself down. Do me a really big favor here and stop that." 

Nodding, his face suddenly sheepish. "Yeah, I'll try. It's just that there's other things you don't know." 

"I already know that." 

"How do you know that?" 

"I'm a cop. You haven't been sleeping. When you do, you toss and turn and say things, not very nice things." 

"Shit." 

"Yeah, well, and then there was the bruising the day after the assault. You didn't get those markings from being held down, Chief." 

Blair slumped into the chair by the window and lowered his head. "Damn, sometimes I hate that you're a cop. Why didn't you say anything?" 

"I figured it was your story. You'd either tell it when you were ready or when you got too tired of hiding out." Jim rubbed his arms and motioned his head toward the bathroom as he spoke. "So, do you feel like hashing it out right this second or do you want to wait until I get a shower and put some clothes on?" 

"I'd like to just forget about it." 

"Nope. That won't do, Chief. Try again." 

"Okay, how about, I promise to talk about it after Christmas?" 

"That I can live with." A deep sigh later, he added, "You know, we're going to have to move our asses to get a decent tree, Chief. All the really good ones are probably gone by now anyway." 

"Not if we cut our own." 

"We can do that?" 

"Jim, how long has it been since you had a tree?" 

He shrugged, stretching back his childhood memory to the tree left untrimmed and empty the year his mother left. "It's been awhile." 

"Well, I've got this friend who runs a tree farm not far from here. We can stop and get a tree stand and some ornaments on the way back once we decide on what kind of tree we want and how big it should be." 

"What do you mean what kind of tree? We want a Christmas tree, right? A tree's a tree." 

"Oh, man." 

* * *

"I kind of like it." 

"It's a tree top." 

"I know, but it's just a symbol, man. We don't need the whole thing to get the full meaning." 

"If you say so." Jim shook his head as he finished wrapping the last light string around the bottom branch. Standing back, he smiled at the three foot tree sitting on a table. He used his finger to bat a tiny elf and reindeer. "It is kind of different. Sort of reminds me of you, Chief. Short and full of crazy notions." 

"Funny, man. It's not my fault you didn't want to cut down a whole tree just for Christmas." 

"It just seemed so wasteful. Just standing there surrounded by all that life, all that beauty, I didn't have the heart to cut it down." 

Blair rubbed Jim's arm gently a few times before putting blue and red glass bulbs on the tree while he spoke. "It's cool, Jim. I really did understand, though I have to admit Janette thought you were a little bit weird when you started talking about the tree's inner strength and communal spirit." 

"She's growing trees in the middle of the wilderness, Chief, she's got no room to talk." 

"True. Plus, she said you'd been around me too long for your own good, needed deprogramming. She is a bit different, but she liked you, I could tell. Hell, if you hadn't been with me, she might have even tried to give you a little warm up session behind the saplings." 

"Not much chance of that." 

"You didn't like her?" 

"I liked her fine. I like you better." He gave a friendly slap on the back of his lover's head and then added another bulb to a lower branch. "So, why these particular colors? Why not gold or silver?" 

"Well, your balls are blue and my balls are red." 

Choking back a laugh, Jim nodded. "After this morning, I'd suspect the opposite." 

"Don't you get it?" 

"Get what?" 

"When you color-coded everything when we first started living together, those were the colors you used." 

"And that's why you chose blue and red ornaments?" 

"Yeah, that and they were on sale." 

Jim walked over to the counter and poured himself another glass of wine. "You want some more?" 

"Yeah, thanks. Just a half glass though. It's still early and wine always makes me sleepy." 

"Then you should drink a whole bottle. Maybe you could sleep longer than an hour at a time." 

"Don't start, man. Hand me that ribbon." 

"What ribbon?" 

"That red ribbon on the table. I want to make streamers." 

Pouring the wine and then fetching the requested trimmings, he gave them both to his partner. "You really get into this stuff, huh?" 

"Well, it's not like I've had a lot of opportunity, but, yeah, it's kind of fun." 

"You ever miss doing the Jewish holiday things?" 

"Not really. I did them when I was a kid, just like I did Christmas." 

Jim sat down on the sofa, watching as Blair cut long strings and then curled them with the edge of the scissors. Sipping his wine, he enjoyed the snow-filtered light as it muted and softened his lover's tired features. "You did both?" 

"Yeah. We also did pagan and just about every other religion at one time or another." 

"Covering all the bases?" 

Blair frowned and did not look amused. "No, man, practicing diversity before anybody else did." 

"I didn't mean it like that." 

"That's okay. It doesn't really matter. I never really cared much one way or another until this year. Now there's a reason to bother." 

The words touched him, mirrored his own thoughts. "Yeah, I know. I feel the same way." 

Pausing a moment, Blair glanced up, his smile a blessing. "Thanks, man. That means a lot." 

A few heartbeats later, he finished draping the ribbons down the sides of the tree and turned on the lights before standing back. "We need something for the top. Do we have a star or an angel or something?" 

"As a matter of fact, we might have." Putting his drink on the table, Jim stood and went to his jacket. Dipping into the pocket he pulled out a package and handed it to Blair. "Try that." 

"Fancy's?" 

"Yeah, they have neat stuff." 

"Did Eric wait on you?" 

"Yeah, why?" 

"He's got a crush on you something awful, that's why." 

"He does not." 

"Sure he does, but he knows you're taken. Broke his heart, man." Opening the bag while he talked, he pulled out a golden five-pointed star about six inches across. "Damn, Jim. Is this real gold?" 

"Gold-plated, but since we didn't get the tree you wanted, I thought this might make up the difference. Next year, if we get a bigger tree, we can still use it as an ornament." He touched the cool surface lying across his lover's palm, the metal smooth and clean against his fingers. 

"It's really beautiful, man." 

"Put it on the tree then." 

"You do it." 

"Why me?" 

"I want to watch you do it." The hushed tones stroked his ears, the voice a tickle and a lure to move closer. 

Without speaking, he took the star and carefully placed it on the top, balancing the weight to make it straight, the gold edges and points sparkling with reflection. 

Standing next to Blair, he reached around his waist and drew him close. "Perfect, man." 

"Yeah, I think so." 

* * *

Jim watched his lover trip into the sofa, his hand just able to steady the wine glass. "You need to eat something, Chief." 

"I'm not hungry." Taking another sip as he settled back against the armrest, he added, "Wine's good though. Hope we've got another bottle." 

"Nope. Bar's closed." 

"Man, I'm still thirsty." Blair finished off his drink and awkwardly set the glass on the end table. 

"You're wasted." 

"No, I'm not. I'm mellow." His syllables slurred together as he worked to demonstrate the fact. 

"Blair, I've got some fresh bread heated and some turkey from the deli. You haven't eaten all day." 

"Well, that's not exactly true. I had an early breakfast." Blair smiled as his head tilted and rested on the back of the couch, his knees pulled up. "You're my favorite meal, Jim." 

Putting his hands on his hips, Jim shook his head and smiled back. "I appreciate that, Blair, but you're really drunk here. You don't eat, we don't get to open our presents until morning." 

"Who says?" 

"I say." 

"And you're boss because?" 

"Because I am. Plus, I want you totally sober when you open your stuff." 

"God, you're such a tough guy. Okay, but I have to tell you, I'm not leaving this couch until you turn off the room." 

"Turn off the room?" 

"Make it stop spinning." 

"Shit." 

"Jim?" 

"What?" 

"I don't feel so good." A few gulping noises later, he moaned. "Oh, man, this is so not good." 

And it wasn't. 

* * *

Jim glanced up as Blair shifted under the covers, rolling over to his side with a moan. Several eye flutters later, unfocused eyes met his. "Oh, man, my head hurts." 

"I'll bet." 

"Man, I am like so sorry." 

Jim folded and placed the paper on the table by the bed before leaning in to run his hand through the unruly brown curls. The springy texture teased his fingertips, the oil just enough to warm the skin. "Think you can make it downstairs to clean up and drink some juice and take some aspirin?" 

"Yeah, I guess." 

Offering an arm for balance, he helped Blair sit up and steady himself at the edge of the bed. If forlorn and embarrassed needed a poster boy, Blair fit. "Come on, Chief. It's not the worst thing ever. You drank too much on an empty stomach and paid the price. It's over." 

"I fucked up Christmas, man, not to mention the rug." 

The mattress sagged deeper as he sat beside his friend and wrapped an arm around his shoulders pulling him close. He kissed the top of his head and whispered. "The rug's just a rug and Christmas isn't over. Let's go downstairs and get you cleaned up. You'll feel better after a shower." 

"What time is it?" 

"Not quite midnight." 

His voice suddenly gained speed. "You mean it's not Christmas day yet?" 

"Nope. So, how about a date, just the two of us? You get freshened up, while I fix us something to eat." 

Shaking his head, Blair reached for Jim's hand pulling it to his chest. "Thanks, but I think I'll skip the food for a little while. My stomach still hurts and my mouth tastes nasty. Coffee would be great though." 

"Coffee it is then. If you want something else later, it's there." He squeezed his lover's hand and then stood to pull him along with him to the stairs. 

"Jim, man, I really am sorry about this." 

"I know. Now, come on. I'm going to eat while you clean up." 

"Okay." 

Going downstairs, Blair took off to the bathroom and closed the door while Jim grabbed up one of the already made sandwiches from the refrigerator. While he made fresh coffee, he listened to the rush of water from the other room, the steamy spray over soapy skin. Extending his senses, he smiled as the sour wine washed away to be replaced by the more subtle, much more pleasant Blair smell, salty and fresh. Cloth against flesh, the rubbing of hand over cock and balls, the soft groan as musk announced his partner's arousal. God, he loved listening to Blair shower, imagined joining him, saw himself thrusting into the tight passage, listening to soft whimpers his lover always made right before coming. Soon he prayed Blair trusted him enough to be together forever. 

The shower stopped and he walked over to check the fireplace and then went around to light all the unscented candles they put out earlier. The whole place flickered from glow to shadow, the tiny blue spruce doing its best to grace the place with a natural wood essence. Walking back to the counter, he finished the sandwich and pouring the coffee just as Blair stepped to his side. 

"You sure smell better, Chief." 

"Taste better, too." Blair lightly touched the back of his head to guide his face closer. "Want to try on another of your kisses, man?" 

"Try to stop me." Gently, he captured the offered lips, his tongue tracing along the lower edge and then plunging forward, thrusting and sucking as Blair's body relaxed and weighed against his. Swallowing heat, he pulled back and took a deep breath. 

Running a finger down along the jaw's edge, he caressed the smooth cheek and smiled. "You shaved." 

The blush burned against his palm as shy eyes looked away. "Didn't want to take off any skin later, you know." 

Lifting his chin, drinking in the black pupils barely surrounded by a narrow blue, he spoke the words in a hush. "I love your whiskers, Chief, but they are tough on a sentinel's hyper senses. I appreciate it." 

"No problem." 

Handing him the cup of coffee, Jim motioned to the sofa. "Come on. We've got some presents to open." 

"I thought we had to wait until morning." Blair followed him and then sat on the couch, his legs tucked under him as he settled at the far edge. 

"I changed my mind." 

"Damn, let me mark this on the calendar." 

"Funny, Chief." 

Glancing around, his eyes rounded, Blair shook his head. "Man, this place looks great. We did a pretty good job, huh?" 

"Yeah, we did." Jim gathered up several packages from under the small tree and returned to the sofa, his body turned toward Blair." 

"These are all for me?" 

"Start with the big one." Even to himself, he sounded like an excited kid. 

Blair put down his coffee and grabbed the box wrapped all in blue with a red ribbon. Shaking it, he held it up to his ear. "Sounds like socks." 

"A hell of a lot of socks. Now, come on, open it." 

Ripping open the paper, he stopped as Jim laughed. "What?" 

"I knew you'd be a ripper." 

"A ripper?" 

"Yeah, instead of a folder." 

"You're a folder, right? Save the paper for next year?" 

"Nothing wrong with recycling." 

"No, you're right. I'll do better next time." 

Jim shook his head, his voice light and happy. "Rip away, Blair. You're fun to watch." 

"My pleasure, man." Tearing the foil, he opened the present to find a knitted cable sweater, the blue wool the finest thin thread. "Jesus, it's gorgeous." 

"Same color as your eyes, Blair. I picked out the wool and Mrs. Hennessy in records knitted it." 

The younger man stood and held the sweater up and across his chest. "Very cool." The awe in his voice tickled the sides of Jim's thighs, the very words like breathy whispers against sweaty skin. 

"You can try it on later. I don't want to have to take it off your body tonight." 

Tilting his head, his eyes laughing, Blair stuck out his tongue before he complained. "Oh, man, you are like way over confident. What makes you think you're going to get lucky tonight?" 

"Because I already am." 

"Me, too, Jim. Thanks." He put the sweater back in the box and placed it on the floor. "Let me get you one." 

Stepping to the tree, he picked up a box a little over two-foot square and handed it to Jim. "I don't know if you'll like this or not, but when I saw it, I thought of us." 

"Us?" 

"Yeah, open it." Blair straddled the armrest and watched, his hands tucked up into his armpits. 

"It's heavy." 

"Yeah, I know, Jim. Just open it." 

As he took time to carefully untape the edges, he saw Blair's right leg bouncing. Immediately, he ripped right in. "Better?" 

"Much." 

Lifting the lid, he revealed a sculpture unlike any he'd ever seen. "My god." Easing it out of the container, he placed it on the coffee table and marveled at the delicate, intricate nature of the lines. A man's hand held the forearm of another man's, both arms going in the same direction, each finger so life-like he opened his mouth to speak and found no words described the overwhelming effect, the swelling of the air stealing his breath. 

"You like it?" 

"It's my hand on your arm." 

"Yeah, cool, huh? Jerry, the artist, said he used my hand as the model, but that the other one came to him in a dream. Don't laugh, man, but it gave me chills when I first saw it and again when he told me that." 

"I'm not laughing, Chief. It's beautiful." 

"It's us." 

"Yeah, it is." He rubbed his fingers along the surface, the texture hard, but lined with the shape of the tendons, tiny bones, and raised veins found on his lover's hand. "Very nice. There's no heartbeat and no heat, but it's still us. I like it." 

"Me, too. Okay, now which one?" 

Still focused on the artwork, he said, "The medium one." 

In the spirit, Blair tore open the package and shook his head. "I'm sensing a theme here, Jim. You think I need to stay warm, huh?" With a wild flourish, he whipped out the long knit scarf that matched his sweater and wrapped it around his neck. "Nice." 

Suddenly embarrassed, Jim shrugged, flashing back to the day he found his guide near death, hypothermic and unconscious. "I hate the idea of you being cold, Chief." 

"Jim? You okay?" Blair's body pressed closer, his arms around his waist in a tight hug. 

"I'm fine. I'm just grateful you didn't leave me." 

"I'll never leave you, Jim. Not on purpose." 

Turning, wrapping his own arms around the man he loved, he drew him closer, his eyes squeezed shut as he soaked in the warmth of the embrace. "I know." 

Blair pulled away and whispered, "I've got one more present for you, Jim." He stood and got the small box and sat back down. "You can take it back if you don't like it." 

"Shut up, Chief." 

"Okay." 

He could hear the ticking and opened the box slowly. Taking the watch out, he flipped it over to read, "Jim, my sentinel forever. Blair." 

Words resisted his tongue. "Thank you." 

"I mean it, Jim. Forever, man. I figure you can wear the watch out in the open without any questions." 

Nodding, he lifted his eyes to meet Blair's. "Open the last one." 

Eagerly, Blair snatched up the tiny box from Fancy's, automatically shaking it again. "Nope, not socks." 

"Nope, Chief, not socks." He never took his eyes off his lover while he slipped the watch on his wrist, the engraved words branding into his skin, the sensation so near promises, his arm tingled. 

"My god, Jim, is this a ring?" 

"Read the inscription." 

"I can't." His hands shaking, Blair took the gold ring from the box and reached over to put on his glasses. The voice tremors settled only slightly as he read the small script inside the wide band. "Blair, my guide forever. Jim" 

The racing heartbeat scared him as he reached out to stroke his lover's cheek. "Are you okay?" 

"Oh, man, Jim, are you asking what I think you're asking here or am I like totally off base?" 

"I want you forever, Blair. I know that's a huge thing to ask, but I really want us to be a couple. You don't have to answer right away." 

"Are you kidding?" 

His heart sank as Blair shoved the ring back in his hand until Blair stretched out the fingers of his left hand. "Put it on, Jim." 

"You mean it?" 

"I love you, Jim. Put it on." 

The glide of gold over the knuckle thrilled him. When Blair crawled into his lap and sucked his tongue right out of his face, he fell back into the true meaning of Christmas. 

* * *

Lulled by the quiet city sounds muffled by a morning after deep snowfall, Jim refocused his attention on the man sleeping beside him. The soft, even breathing entranced him, so peaceful, so different from other restless slumbers. Not wanting to wake his partner, he gently touched his open palm to the outer fluff of curls, just barely a whisper of connection between skin and hair. The winter slant of light muted the edges and turned brown to taupe, chestnut to mahogany, each strand varied both in texture and hue. He could get lost in those swirls, the spirals that drew his attention with every turn of his partner's head. 

Leaning forward, he sniffed at the rich scent, honey and almond, one of the few shampoos Blair used that he enjoyed. Shifting his hips down, he slid his nose along the back of the neck and over the bare shoulder and memorized one more time the overnight aroma so distinctive to his partner, salty sweat and musk, even stronger at the moment because it mixed with his own. 

His cock stirred at the memory, fueled by the nearness of the man he craved more than any food or drink, needed more than breathing or thinking. A shift in heart beat and a small moan alerted him to Blair's slow waking. Very still, his head propped up and watching, his erection twitching and frustrated, he waited. After a few moments, his guide rolled back against him, shoving for space to lie on his back. 

The familiar voice sounded like a grumble, the throat rusty from sleep. "Oh, man, I'm sore all over." 

"Morning, Chief." 

Sleepy eyes met his, full alertness still hiding out from the day. "It's still Christmas, right?" 

"Yeah. It's a white one, too. In fact, I think we're pretty much snowed in here." 

Turning his head and lifting slightly, Blair tried to see out the window, but then fell back, closing his eyes. "Just as well. After all we did last night, I don't see me getting up anytime soon." 

"Really? You sure about that, Chief?" Testing, very careful not to move too quickly, he slid his hand to Blair's crotch to find his lazy cock nestled with lovely hard balls. At his touch, the groan and spreading of his lover's legs signaled for more. With each stroke the silky flesh expanded, the hardness growing in his hand, the magic of arousal swelling heat inside his fist. 

"Oh, god, Jim, oh, man, that feels so good, Jesus." Sweat layered the skin, the whole body stretching and arching up with every pump. 

Still stroking slowly, he rolled over, his knees between Blair's thighs, pushing them further apart. His groin rocked harder, his cock rubbing against Blair's. Removing his hand brought a moan, but he swallowed it up as he swooped down to capture his lover's mouth, his tongue forcing lips open, sucking and thrusting in time with his body's insistent, starving movements. The whole time he moved, Blair's hands held on to his ass, pulling him toward him, deliciously spreading his cheeks when he lifted away. 

Sharp blazes swarmed up his backbone, primal drums banging louder, pounding to a roar in his ears, blood rushing to swirl away the light as he worked to take in the energy, to hold onto the power riveting his muscles to every bone, each nerve a blast of temper needing a fist to the gut. Fiery air shattered ice, frozen shards of blood slicing away oxygen in the deep regions of his chest. He belly exploded with electric spasm as he jabbed his life at his partner, thrust every strength forward with thighs too heavy to move and too stubborn to quit jousting. His mouth stopped working against Blair's as his face dropped down to bury itself against the thick chest hair, his mind wild with hunger as he pumped one last time to find the uneven convulsive jerks holding him, each jet of life an explosion of intense pleasure ripping his gut into another level of need for one more. 

Collapsing forward with a groan, strong arms gripped him around his chest to his back, holding him still as he shook, every muscle exhausted and rebelling. Gentle fingers petted his hair, while lips kissed his cheek, teeth nibbled his ear lightly, a soft whisper praising him. "God, man, what a way to fill a Christmas wish." 

Snatching air where he could find it, he struggled to form words. "I love you, Blair." 

"Me, too, Jim." After a few more comforting rubs to his back, the smaller man beneath him used his knees to get his attention while he spoke. "Want to roll over a little, so I can keep breathing?" 

"Sure, in a minute." Puffing, still finding great warmth in the arms of his lover, he snuggled closer, his face rubbing against the sweaty chest, the hairs wiry against his cheek. 

"Jim, I love you, man, but I really can't breathe here." 

Not wanting to lose contact, he shifted all the way over on his back, his arms grabbing his partner and pulling him on top, Blair's knees on either side of his hips. "You make a great blanket, Chief." 

Smiling, Blair leaned down and slowly, deliberately licked along his lower lip and then kissed the tip of his nose. "I've got you covered for always." Slumping forward, his arms pulled in to stay warm, he shivered. "Speaking of which, I'm freezing my ass off here." 

"No problem." Reaching to the side, he pulled up the sheet and then the comforter. After a few more moments, he spoke softly. "You know we really should get up and clean up, Blair. We're going to need major ungluing if we let this stuff dry and get a good grip." 

"You don't want to stick to me where it counts, man?" 

"Think painful pubic pull, Chief." 

"Oh, man, that is so not a happy thought for the season." 

"I know. How about a shower for both of us? You ready for that yet?" 

"You're asking that after everything we did last night and this morning?" 

"I just want things to be right." 

"Believe, me, man, you're as right as it gets." 

"Yeah?" 

"Definitely." Pausing, Blair lifted his head and pushed up enough to meet his eyes. "Jim, are we going to Simon's later?" 

"You want to?" 

"Do you think he'd mind if we begged off? I mean, I hate to be selfish, but I'd kind of like to just keep you to myself for the day." 

Drinking in the blueness of the eyes aimed at his, he shook his head. "Simon can handle his own stuffing." Using both hands, he cupped both sides of his lover's face, the hair tickling the back of his skin. "You're not the only selfish man in this bed, Chief." Bringing him forward, he kissed the full lips deeply, his tongue sinking into the slick heat, the rough edges of teeth and gum a luscious contrast. 

Pulling back, taking a deep breath, Blair spoke, his voice husky. "Merry Christmas, Jim." 

"For now and for many years to come, Blair." 

"God, you're so greedy, man." The musical laugh, the unspoken pledge, caught his spirit and ran wild in his soul. 

"And is that a problem?" 

"Forever never ends, man." 

"Promise?" 

Placing his left hand across Jim's mouth, he rubbed the coolness of the gold band across the tender skin before leaning down with a kiss. Jim's world swelled to wonder as he swallowed up his whispered future. "I promise." 

The end 


End file.
